Brick by Boring Brick
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: Now, be a good little Anti-Princess and lock that brick tower up nice and tight lest the wolves blow it down. / Or, Chloe Mitchell and little Katie Valentine being one and the same.


"She lives in a fairy tale  
Somewhere too far for us to find  
Forgotten the taste and smell  
Of a world that she left behind."

_- Brick by Boring Brick_, Paramore

.

.

.

Fool the world a little bit longer, Chloe. Do it.

Because then you'll never be hurt again, never be gullible again. You'll never be told stories of princesses, handsome and noble princes that ride up on a pure white steed and rescue the damsel in distress. You'll never let down that guard of yours again (because insecure, little Katie Valentine is always there, ever omnipresent and the angersadnessrage just bubbles up) and trip, landing on the sharp shards of your heart. You'll never bleed for anyone that badly again.

But never say never, baby.

You're just a little girl with _once upon a time_ in your eyes stupidly hoping for _happily ever after_.

(Didn't you get the memo, sweetheart? You're not meant for a happy ending.)

* * *

Delia doesn't understand. She doesn't understand that the man who loves her like his own is gone.

Chloe's trying to tremble and remember the rag doll Chance gives Delia for her first birthday, the bedtime stories he makes up and reads with such gentleness and love even after Chloe goes cheated on (it's the same damn story and you layer that hard brick wall on thick), and the way Chance stops taking about this Riggs case to play with her.

Chloe keeps her composure throughout Chance's funeral – when she honest to God wants to beat Heather's ass into the church's wooden floor because Heather's a skank (whoreslutfuckinghomewrecker) and that whole District Attorney School Marm Routine is fake.

And her dress is hideous – another reason to hate the bitch even more.

Everything synonymous to Heather Stevens reeks of Town Bicycle because every man in Genoa City has ridden the Heather Stevens Slut Express (read: Adam, the psychopath, Baby Daddy Billy and…just Chance).

It's her fault Chance is placed in that dangerous situation, it's Ronan's fault for pulling the trigger and it's Chloe's fault for bedding Ronan – the guilt and anger weighs down on her petite fashionable frame.

"You know," Chloe says to Kevin when they come back from that funeral. She can still the sound of the gunshots and tries not to jump at the 21 Gun Salute as her heart beats in her ears (there's blood, blood, blood everywhere…), "I thought I could handle _this_."

"Well, you did. After Mrs. C had to play verbal referee between you and Heather."

Kevin sets the wine bottle and two glasses on the table and watches Chloe begin to reverting to breaking again.

He lets out a sigh and gently nudges her because well, they're roomies and essentially buds now.

"It would have been nice to actually beat the shit out of her. Ugh."

(She respects Katherine way too much, though, to do it right then and there so next time – it's going to be at a back alley or poisoning with something untraceable.)

"You took the high road and didn't. That's progress."

Chloe rolls her eyes, "I should have," and then there are tears in her eyes again and all she can think about is Delia and how her little expectant face will be waiting for Chance to walk in and call for him ("Ance, Mama!" Because she can't get her _Ch_ sound down yet but it's still cute), watching as her little face lights up.

"How do I tell my little girl that Chance isn't going to come back?" she sobs, façade cracking and breaking under the weight of her pain like the heel of a designer shoe. "How do I break my daughter's heart?"

He can be logical but he knows firsthand that emotion and logic never mix, no matter how skewed the logic is and how twisted the logic is.

Kevin merely offers his shoulder for Chloe to cry on and more hugs, "C'mere."

* * *

It's a collision of skin on skin, lips (be careful what you wish for, Birthday Girl) pressing against each other like Chance doesn't matter and Chloe still isn't hurt and sortofstillloveshim.

The sex is consensual and it's _enough_ to stop hurting.

Slide the ring under the door, you sucker and kiss that fabulous wedding **goodbye**.

Ronan is mysterious and shady and Chloe knows his baggage. But it doesn't matter because just for a little bit, her heart isn't involved and she doesn't have to care – it's not about romance and forever. And she's not that invested.

What's a little red wine and Frivolous, Loose Sex between two consenting adults who can't be defined as Friends because Ronan can't put roots down and Chance should really stop judging him. There are things about him he doesn't know.

(She just sleeps with Chance's long lost big brother, that's all. People over the world have sex all the time. It _doesn't_ matter.)

Nina's book, A Cry In Thin Air, make her list on Things That Turn Chloe's Stomach right next to uncoordinated and plain wrong fashion combinations.

It's all due to the sole fact she can't continue keeping this s e c r e t (shhh…)

* * *

Remember when you let yourself actually _be happy_?

Remember when the feeling of trying and putting effort into love for the sake of it all is becoming foreign to you because you don't care about Billy Abbott and his charm, smooth words and promises of forever and always anymore.

(Delia has Billy's smile and furrows her little eyebrows together when she sleeps like _he_ does.)

Remember when you question your self-worth while you lock eyes with this new, cute soldier fresh from a tour of duty in Iraq?

And your dainty little hand shakes his much bigger one and something just changes.

* * *

"I told you way back that we're cut from the same cloth, remember?"

Chloe rolls her eyes. She wishes Billy would leave her alone and go be with his wife. Actually, she wishes a lot of people would stop silently pitying her with their eyes and their condolences.

Stupid Kevin for making her come here to all of this – and no, get those appetizers outta her face, Mom!

"Should I?"

Billy shrugs, "It wouldn't surprise me if you didn't," he casts a sideways glance at her while Victoria speaks with her mother and Katherine, "but it's true. We're two people who typically act like they don't care about a lot of things."

Chloe blinks and wonders why she's not watching Jerry Springer or The Maury Povich Show.

(The guests have lives that are fucked up are completely worse than her cesspool right now.)

"This whole philosophical thing you have going," Chloe points out. "Stop."

Billy sips his wine and swallows the mouthful because he loses a nephew and the fact he's married and actually knows about this upcoming baby keeps him from escaping to Jimmy's. John's probably giving him the ultimate gold star for Most Improved Son.

"Look, just," he pauses, "if you need a break, DeeDee will be fine with me."

(And the new stepmommy, Victoria.)

"I told you it's too confusing for Delia to bounce from one new adult in her life to the next."

He's not even going to argue this time because his mom needs him right now and Billy doesn't know Phillip but yeah, he'll stop and say he's sorry. And he realizes he loses a niece and nephew within one year. That's screwed and Billy is sad – well, numb with a sad kind of nostalgia because this happens before.

Billy merely smiles tight-lipped at her, "I have a theory: you actually care too much and that's why you're biting heads off – understandable. Face it, sweetheart. We care _too much_."

"Are you done now?"

"Yeah, but I want you to know that I do care about your well-being and not just because we have one beautiful baby together," he tries to get her to smile, and Chloe smiles a shadow of a smile. Delia always makes her smile. Billy sounds sincere as he can afterwards, "I'm sorry, Chloe. I'll always owe Chance one for being there for our little girl when I…couldn't."

Chloe actually is curt and civil and the sharp replies die on her tongue (she's not in freaking mood) so she thanks him – for this and holding her like he truly cares when she sobs at the police station.

(She's sorry for him too but Chloe will never say it to his face.)

* * *

Yeah, Chloe's too emotional and passionate for her own fucking good.

(Put that damn shield up. That's it. Layer those bricks, nice and strong. Good girl, now the world can't hurt and leave freshly etched imaginary wounds only you can see.)

* * *

Here's the lingering piece of irony that haunts her and keeps her awake at night: as much as Chloe wants to do nothing more than pretend Heather Stevens is the gum underneath her Christian Louboutins, Heather is the only one who knows how losing a good guy like Chance completely feels.

And they sit on that police station bench, feeling everything around them slow down and then completely freeze.

Or at least it feels like that.

"I'm gonna…go."

Heather's face is tear-streaked and she's sniffling holding her composure – it's oh so hard. She doesn't look up when Chloe leaves the Genoa City Police Station, shoes clickity-clack across the parking lot.

And that's the end of that.

* * *

"I wasn't using you."

"Who said anything about being used?"

Maybe, Chloe secretly has a thing for being used and being left alone because people always leave.

"Oh, like you weren't implicating sex when you used 'getting lucky'?" Ronan counters, sticking his hands deep in his pockets. "My job doesn't allow me to put roots down and I tend to drift, you know. The other night… it was nice just to have a glass of wine with you and feel normal so," Ronan smiles a little bit and to Chloe is leery but it's nice so her questioning stops just for tonight, "thank you."

She crosses her arms, eyes looking towards the door next door.

"It's fine. You're welcome," Chloe nods in the direction of aforementioned door. Heather always needs to be guarded after all. God forbid the ho actually get beat up into the next month. "Don't you have to be next door or something? Make sure Heather isn't a liability."

Ronan slightly chuckles (barely), "You."

"Yeah," Chloe smiles, sarcastically. "Me."

He walks away.

And Chloe closes the door, pouring herself another glass of wine before Kevin comes back.

(The engagement ring is too beautiful and too painful nowadays.)

* * *

This case consumes him and Chloe loves him enough to not watch him wind up killed.

"You're going to that warehouse, aren't you? That's why you're going around dropping goodbyes."

"You know I have to," Chance counters, eyes ablaze and conviction annoyingly strong. "Chloe, I'm so close to nailing those dirty cops to the wall," she opens her mouth to argue but something in his eyes leaves her tongue tied and that's a first. He lightly grips her small frame by the shoulders. "Listen, I know what the risks are. I know it's dangerous. But I _have_ to do this. It's the morally correct thing to do. I'm so close."

Chloe laughs and it's hollow, "No, it's not. Don't go. You can _choose_ not to."

"I don't have a choice. I'm in too deep already."

She scoffs – everybody has a choice. Every person on this Earth has a freaking choice and Chance is making the wrong one.

"Let the pros deal with this, Chance," Chloe says and it's close to begging. "Say no."

"It's my job."

"They took your badge away."

"Doesn't prove anything."

"It proves everything!"

Thank God, no one is in the Chancellor Estate right now. Chance lightly snorts in laughter and Chloe is annoyed. This isn't funny – this is serious and really, he's just being stupid.

"You're so stubborn," he grins and chuckles to himself like it's a damn joke. It's not. "I don't want to spend this time arguing with you. I have something to say to you – "

Automatically, Chloe shakes her hand adamantly. No. Absolutely not – Chloe doesn't want to be here when Chance goes into this martyr mindset. He's going to be the right thing and get himself killed. For once, why the hell can't he be wired to do the right thing? Chloe feels herself start to care and give a damn like whole Heather mess never occurs with hope of being someone's wife for true, genuine love still in her eyes like her own fairy tale.

"Chance, stop. We're not together anymore so you don't have to beat yourself up," she says, and lightly shrugs while looking away at something shiny in the Chancellor house. It's not interesting and Chloe really doesn't care.

(She really cares way too damn much. And her insecurity is her security blanket.)

"Let me grovel a little bit," Chance chuckles quietly, "Please?"

Chloe rolls her eyes, and laughs even though she feels like crying. "Fine."

"My only regret is that I hurt you," he takes her hands, presses his lips lightly to the back of them, "and I'll have the rest of my life to forgive myself. I loved you. Being with you was the only thing that made sense to me in a long time. I wouldn't trade it for _anything_. I want to ask of you for your forgiveness."

Chloe retrieves her hands back and her voice sounds like it's breaking – oh, look. She's about to cry and ruin her makeup, applied with a skilled hand.

"Fine," she answers, angrily. Her eyes are round and shiny with unshed tears; suddenly Chloe is very scared and conflicted because Nina needs to know. Nina just has to know. If Delia plans to do something not so smart, Chloe would want to know as her mother, right? Yeah, absolutely. Chloe sniffles, trying to sound strong and she's failing, failing, failing. "I can forgive you for what you did to me. But I will not forgive you if you get yourself hurt. And neither would Delia. She _adores_ you."

"I'll never stop loving that little girl. But I'll be fine."

"You really believe that?" (She believes the thing about Chance always loving her daughter, wholeheartedly, though.)

"Yes," Chance answers, with that strong resolve back again. But Chloe sees the fear in his eyes. "I have to go now. I'll be careful, Chloe."

And Chloe watches him walk right out of the Chancellor Estate and _that's it_.

* * *

Come on, Chloe. Go ahead and cry pretty just like we practiced.

"Chance, please don't go!"

He doesn't look back.

(And Chloe knows that all too familiar deep, sinking feeling of people leaving and not come back.)

* * *

You've built up this illusionary world of magic because reality is all too tragic, love.

Didn't you know that, Chloe?

Oh, of course you did. Now, be a good little Anti-Princess and lock that brick tower up nice and tight lest the wolves blow it down.

(Wouldn't want to let them in, now we would we, _K a t i e_?)

* * *

**A/N: I almost hate this but that could be because I'm the author and I have the tendency to be overly nitpicky when it comes to my own stuff. This is my second Chloe-centric piece and I hope I got her internal complexities behind her external, bitchy (I find that endearing sometimes and don't hate her for it because that's how she's programmed to act. There's a reason for her attitude), fashionable outside. **

**I interpret her insecurities come from a feeling of being left alone by several people in her life and not having any stability in her life. That's why she lied about Delia's paternity so her daughter would be stable. But we all know now that Billy is putting in effort to build a relationship with his daughter. **

…**Yeah, just review and tell me what you think. I have two other incomplete stories to tend to so I will finally be working on the epilogue to 'Vanilla Twilight' and the fifth chapter to 'shades of grey matter' in between my busy life. After I deal with those and finish them, I will be saying goodbye to the Zoey 101 fandom once and for all. **

**The Y&R fandom here needs help. **

**I'm rambling now. Reviews would be nice to wake up to. Please&thank you.**

**-Erika**


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